Partida

HÁ EXATOS 9 ANOS ELA PARTIA.

SINTO SUA FALTA, MÃEZINHA... OBRIGADA POR TUDO! ESTEJA BEM! OLHE POR MIM.

The mask in me

How much of ourselves is tame for us to become socially acceptable?
They say I'm a nice girl. I am intelligent and make friends easilly. But who is friendly and intelligent? Myself or the mask of me that I allow others to see?
They tell me I need to learn how to play. That I expose myself too much. That my feelings are always visible to anyone, and that if I want to relate to someone I need to learn not to expose myself. But the life I live without saying who I am is really mine or the one who someone imposes to me?
I want to declare my hatred, say my loves, exposing my soul. What would they do with it? Who would judge me? Those who are playing, or the people inside the players? I think that, on our own will, we have became pawns on a chessboard where few are those that determine the movements. And if someone does not abide by the condition of a pawn, it becomes a person who we admire. Why, then, we are pawns?
It is dawn and those are the thoughts that are making me turn and turn in bed before falling asleep. What does make us stand in line of the pre-set conduct instead of making us live by own will? We all have monsters inside us, and these need to be shackled lest, this way we won´t lose ourselves. But we have dreams too. What does make we arrest them?
If I love, I want to declare. If I hate, why pretending? I am tired of hearing "do not call him, you can't show you want him, because he will despise you." Sincerity, today, is judged as weakness. And it's true: we are punished for acting as the heart tells us. The council of not exposing is the demonstration of true friendship. But what is the veracity of a feeling that can not be declared, as if it is, won't be, obligatorily, corresponded?
I get tired of being human. I get tired of thinking. I get tired of playing. The evolution of the intellect takes us away from what makes us a creature of nature. Everything is game, everything has a second intention. What does life worth living disguising? On the other hand, what does bleeding inside is worth when what we can expect from the other is dissimulation? 'Cause we move so much in schemes we lose ourselves inside our own movements on the board. I'm afraid we can not start over. Or, if we succeed, would we knowhow to repeat the items and avoid what was considered wrong?
How many times I was criticized for that one phone call I've given or the message I've sent. I acted on impulse. "Impulse" term to become acceptable to others what, by definition, you should not have done. But why shouldn't I?.
Love me, hate me. If I can't be true to myself, how can I be with others? And if they don't want I get authentic and I relate to me as I am, what does the relationships and the living are worth?
I'm tired. Too tired. Maybe talking too much. Maybe thinking too much. But what would that be? Another reason to explain why I think as I think?

Bittersweet

She is a girl with no delicate poses, smiles not discreet and a mysterious look. She looks like a spoiled girl, has a touch of whimsy, a sensitive of a flower, a charming way of being, a touch of intuition and a tone of sweetness. She reflects lilac, a bright of a star, a restlessness, a lonely of an artist and an air of a wise scientist. She is intense and has a mania for feeling completely, for loving completely and being completely. Inside of her there is a foolish heart, which is always capable of loving and trusting again. She as that sweet taste of romantic girl and that sour taste of modern woman.